THE EX WITH PERFECT TIMING

Blake's smile was charming, but fake. Elena could see it from across the room.

Cole felt it too. There was something about the man's eyes, like he walked in already smelling trouble.

"I didn't know you had company," Blake said, his voice cool.

Elena forced a polite smile. "He's… helping me with the business."

"Oh," Blake said, raising a brow. "Interesting. I thought you only worked with professionals."

Cole said nothing. He simply looked at the man, calm on the outside, boiling inside.

"I'll give you two some space," Cole said, standing and walking toward the back room.

Blake watched him go, then turned back to Elena with a knowing smirk. "So, that's Cole Kingston? The almighty billionaire? Didn't recognize him without the private jet and gold watch."

Elena sighed. "Blake, what do you want?"

He leaned against the counter, flashing his perfect teeth. "Can't I check up on an old friend?". "You haven't called in a year."

"I heard you were doing well. Thought I'd come see for myself."

"And now that you've seen me?"

His smile dropped just a little. "Now I see you've picked up a stray."

Elena's eyes narrowed. "Don't talk about him like that."

Blake chuckled. "You used to have better taste, Elena."

She folded her arms. "I also used to believe in men who disappear the moment things got hard."

His smile faded completely.

Touché.

In the back room, Cole wasn't pretending anymore. He paced the floor, fists clenched. Every word he overheard from Blake made his chest tighten. So this was Elena's ex. The man she once loved.

He had the looks, the charm, the money… still. Cole had none of that now.

And yet, the anger he felt wasn't jealousy. It was fear. Fear that she'd choose the man with stability.

Not the broken one sweeping her floor.

A few minutes later, Elena walked in. Cole turned to her.

"Is he gone?"

She nodded.

"Should I leave too?"

She blinked. "Why would you say that?"

He shrugged. "He still wants you."

Elena scoffed. "He wants the version of me that stays quiet and smiles at his jokes."

"You smiled."

"That was fake. Like his Rolex." Cole cracked a small laugh.

She stepped closer. "Don't let people like him get into your head, Cole. You've got bigger things to fix."

He looked at her, eyes searching. "And what if I want to fix more than just the spreadsheets?"

Her eyes held his for a moment.

Then she looked away.

"Not now."

That evening, as Elena locked up the boutique, she saw something odd.

A black car parked across the road. Same model as Blake's, but the windows were tinted dark.

It had been there all day.

She felt a chill in her stomach. When she looked again, the car was gone.

The next day, tension returned. Blake sent flowers. Roses. Chocolates. A card with a handwritten note:

"You still deserve better. Let's talk. -T."

Cole saw the delivery guy before Elena did. He read the card. His chest burned. He didn't mention it.

Later that evening, he found himself scrubbing the boutique floors harder than normal.

Elena walked in.

"You okay?"

He nodded. But she saw the card on the table.

She froze.

"Oh…"

Cole looked at her, his voice low. "He's trying."

"I didn't ask for it."

"I know."

"But you're angry."

"No," he said. "Just reminded that I'm not enough."

She stepped closer. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Compare yourself to a man who left me when I needed him most. You, Cole… you stayed."

He swallowed hard.

"But how long can I stay?" he whispered. "In your shop. In your space. In your life?"

Silence.

She looked away. Her heart wanted to say forever. But her head said not yet.

That night, the power went out. Rain poured hard. New York didn't forgive weak roofs.

Cole moved fast, placing buckets to catch the leaking water near the entrance. Elena came downstairs with candles and a blanket.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"For what?"

"For everything. For you ending up like this."

He shook his head. "Don't be. Maybe I needed to fall."

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

The room went quiet except for thunder outside. And in that silence… something changed.

Not love. Not yet. But something.

A seed. A softness. A truth.